[ it's possible that the moan murphy makes while the spoon slides smooth off his tongue is more pornographic than at least half of the sounds he's made it bed. kavinsky may feel jealous of the ice cream. but to his credit, the urge to throttle has rapidly evaporated with this treatment, and murphy's ready to go all jelloy and pliable, so tired after the landing, the trek and the camping, body missing the simple pleasures and thrills eudio made so easily available.

like kavinsky, and his smirky lips, and his profane mouth, and his demanding tongue. ]

M'gonna remember that. [ murphy muffles into kavinsky's lips, trying to talk with a tongue sucked between his lips. he wants those ass eating lessons, he wants to get to do to kavinsky what he seems to love doing to him. but until then, he's going to suck face, and maybe other more offensive things later, snickering into the seal of their lips, as he licks all along kavinsky's teeth, trying to soak in the sugary dessert taste clinging to him. this cake is going to melt if they ignore it too long, though, and murphy's hand fumbles around, one sitting comfortably against the side of kavinsky's neck and the other picking up the spoon, murphy trying to tilt his head and peek opening an eye just enough to get another spoon full, before he pulls back, though his body stays close. ] Okay, forget coming in for landing. Eagle Two is screwed 'cause Godzilla's attacking the airport. Open wide, lizard king.